


Talk Dirty To Me

by Oblinajayne



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Lapdance, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblinajayne/pseuds/Oblinajayne
Summary: Wade is changing his ways, but he still needs to blow off steam occasionally. What happens when this so happens to lead to a chance encounter, of the sexy kind?Song fic of sorts, inspired byTalk Dirty To Meby Jason Derulo (featuring 2 Chainz).
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 257





	Talk Dirty To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by not my typical taste in music, but I feel it is appropriate here.

The katana waved ever so slightly in the breeze. Wade circled back and puled Bea from the spine of the errant drug dealer that had tried to defend his kingpin. Wade wiped the blood from her blade, tenderly holstering her on his back. He chuckled as he kicked the newly detached head towards the wall, chuckling at the wet thud. His phone pinged, Dopinder’s clean-up crew was on their way. Wade surveyed his night’s work, cocky smile on his face.

[If only Spidey could see us now…]  
{He would not be impressed.}

“Hey, he’s the one that said we needed a new focus! He’s the one that hooked us up with Fury and made it so we are no longer a gun for hire for any old schmuck.” Wade clucked his tongue at the dual eye rolls from the boxes. Thoughts of his arachnid bro readied him for the ritual Wade had developed to follow this level of carnage. Of course, no matter who he paid to tickle his fancy was no comparison to who he fantasised about being with. 

The last few years had been an interesting ride for Wade. After literally being put back together by Colossus, Wade just so happened upon an acrobatic web-slinger with the most amazing _bootay_ on a fateful X-men mission in Manhattan. Wade was immediately hit by a wave of fan-girl level awe, his Jupiter sized crush cemented when Spiderman was forced to web Wade out of the path of stray bullet. The bone crushing impact of body against brick snapped Wade back to reality. A reality where an incredibly apologetic Spiderman agreed to exchange digits for further crime fighting arrangements.

Boy did Wade barely hesitate to use and abuse said digits. Within days Wade was wrapped around the lithe form of the spider of his dreams, being swung around the Big Apple. The cherry on top was that Spiderman did not outright squash Wade’s almost constant flirting. Sure, he didn’t exactly flirt back, but deep down Wade could have sworn he was playing hard to get. Even with the casual mention of past and occasionally present relationship statuses, Wade could have sworn that Spidey still used Wade’s obsessions with the red and blue clad buttocks to avoid Wade spilling needless blood on missions. The way Spidey sauntered across to web up baddies as Wade had them in his focus was surely done to drive him wild, right?

[As if, _brah_.]  
{You are surely hallucinating.}

By some wonderful happenstance-

[A.k.a we are persistent as fuck.]  
{Poor sweet, kind hearted Spider had no choice but to agree…}

-Wade and Spiderman had started to ‘wind down’ together post patrol. Sometimes it was just grabbing a late night taco or slice of pizza. Other times Wade was, without [{much}] coercion, invited back to Spiderman’s apartment to play videogames into the early hours of the morning.

[For a pacifist the dude has a thirst for virtual blood!]  
{And such a competitive brat on _Mario Kart_!}

Wade was a smitten kitten with his new found friendship. The fact that Spiderman hadn’t been overtly repulsed at the few inches of skin he had showed to him, now on a regular basis, as they indulged in midnight feasting, only added to the prize pool. Wade often found himself staring at the creamy flesh of Spiderman’s chin, his thin yet ample lips that _somehow_ seemed perpetually curved in a bemused smile around Wade, and the triad of freckles at the corner of his strong hairless jaw. Wade wondered at first how young this hero was, but during one of the rare moments Spiderman dropped his guard enough to mention something about his non-Super life, he had mentioned Tony Stark helping him with Grad School applications. 

Alas, despite his obvious proclamations of desire, Wade still found his bed empty and relying on paid services to ease his raging post un-aliving hard on. 

Wade pushed past a throng of drunken stag party goers, glaring at the bouncer that dare question his VIP access card. Sure, he was dressed head to toe in black, fingers too. His hooded leather jacket and plain black biker’s scarf pulled over his nose was certainly against a lot of entry codes for this kind of establishment. However, the flash of a gold card sitting behind said entry ID was enough to widen both the bouncer’s eyes and the door into the nightclub. 

The thrum of the bass, the dimly lit light and ample amounts of fake smoke, sweaty bodies and spilt alcohol had Wade’s senses going wild. It had the look and feel of any typical nightclub, but for those in the know, there was an even seedier side. Those dancers in those suspended cages, writhing what their respective Mumma’s gave them? For the right price they could be using you as their very own pole. You just had to know who to speak to.

Wade sidled over to the darkest corner of the bar, watching what was on offer tonight. In the cage directly in Wade’s line of vision was a gorgeous brunette in daisy dukes, open vest, cowboy hat and boots. He gyrated his muscular ass, looking like a twink version of Matthew McConaughey in _Magic Mike_. Wade’s mouth was watering, he didn’t even notice Weasel’s cousin behind him at first.

“Like what you see, DP?” Ferret asked, securing a stray dreadlock into his manbun.

“Oh yes, Daddy like. I will have him and a side of whisky old enough to order its own drinks.” Wade didn’t take his eyes off the dancer until he was lead behind the bar to the hidden stairs leading to the private VIP rooms.

Wade settled into the plush purple velvet covered chesterfield loveseat of his usual room. The red and purple lighting working to hide the worst of his facial scarring. He gulped a double as the music started. His cowboy twink entered the room once _Talk Dirty_ by Jason Derulo thumped in Wade’s ears. 

Oh and talk dirty to him is exactly what Wade felt like doing, watching him work the pole within reaching distance. The denim cut offs were short enough to give Wade a front seat view to the amazing muscular definition of where his ass ended and his hamstrings began. He was no bodybuilder, his from more fitting to that of a swimmer. But that’s the way Wade liked him, supple and limber.

Holding himself on the pole by the crook of knee, Cowboy ditched his hat, revealing lusciously tousled brown hair that Wade itched to run his hands through. Dismounting with more grace Wade has seen of any of the dancers here, Cowboy sauntered over to Wade. Hands on Wade’s knees, he pushed them apart, bending and snapping in the space he had made for himself. He sat himself on Wade’s lap, his denim clad ass rubbing against Wade’s already straining cock.

“Ohh my, is my tip a gold bar or are you just happy to see me?” Cowboy purred, rubbing himself against Wade a few more times before grabbing Wade’s gloved hands, running them down his taught thighs.

“Mmmm, Daddy is very happy to see you, sweet cheeks.” Wade growled in Cowboy’s ear.

Cowboy stood, grabbing Wade’s hands again, this time encouraging his hands to explore the washboard abs on display. He straddled Wade’s muscular thighs using those abs to writhe to the beat, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, craning his neck back. That’s when Wade spotted it, a small triad of beautiful freckles at the corner of Cowboy’s jaw. His hands froze and he lent forward.

“Spidey?!” Wade hissed in disbelief. Cowboy froze mid gyration.

“Uh-Excuse me?” His wide brown eyes locked with Wade’s. He reached up to remove his face shielding scarf. The stunned dance all but fell off his customer’s lap.

“Fuck, _‘POOL!_ Oh my- shit!” Spiderman the stripper stood, one hand clutching his face, the other clutching at the fabric of his costume, trying to regain some semblance of decency.

Wade stood too, utter disbelieve leaving him completely numb. Blinking a few times he made for the door, not hearing the faint call from the other man to wait. Wade had the decency to leave a generous tip as he fled for the safety of his apartment.

[Regardless, that is _definitely_ going in the spank bank!]  
{Oh abso-fucking-lutely!}

\---  
Peter was shocked to say the least. He had never had a customer walk out him before. Then again he had never had a colleague as a client before. There was that one night that he saw Bucky and Loki hanging around the darker booths, but they at least knew Peter worked here, they were hoping for a VIP pass, but not for Peter to be the one to dance for them. 

Sighing, Peter collected his discarded costume items. Deadpool had been his last booking for this shift, Peter decided to take the early mark. He nearly fell over when he felt the girth of today’s tip packet. To make matters more shocking, the majority of bills bore the face of Presidents Franklin and Grant. He had a sneaking suspicion as to who was responsible.

Peter hurried home, musing on the years since befriending his not-always-so-friendly Merc with a Mouth. Boy could that mouth talk! Peter was openly bisexual, but he tried to keep Spiderman as asexual as possible. That charade was going fine until the Merc blustered into his life. The years of flirtatious banter had been a test of Peter’s self-control. He had even dropped the occasional hints to his sex life into conversations with Deadpool, to try and get him to bite. However the Merc had either ignored him, or the fact that Peter’s current track record was favouring women more than men, had somehow thrown Deadpool off. 

He had even invited Deadpool _to his apartment_. Peter was worried Deadpool was all talk until he started using the sway of his hips to distract the Merc from spilling innocent blood when needed during situations. Peter had recently started to doubt his own attractiveness, but tonight was evidence that Deadpool was actually _respectful_ of Spiderman’s privacy and clearly a bit oblivious to Peter’s coy, hard to get act. 

Peter showered the sweat of what felt like half of The Village off him, grabbing his phone from his night stand as he changed into an old pair of basketball shorts and a faded V-neck tee. He snorted at the last meme Deadpool had sent him, only earlier today, before sending a simple message; _’Wanna talk?’_

The message barely had time to ping between towers before Peter heard a tap at his window. Peter padded barefoot to the window that acted as Deadpool’s main port of entry to Peter’s small apartment. Peter leant against the wall as the red and black clad figure strode past to flop on the couch.

“So this has been an enlightening evening.” Wade quipped. He was desperately trying to come off as aloof but Peter could practically smell the awkwardness underlying his bravado.

“Mmm,” Peter hummed, sitting in his usual spot at the other side of his well-worn couch, “and how convenient that you just so happened to be in the neighbourhood to be at my window the moment I text you?” Peter raised a well-shaped brow at the man next to him.

“Exactly-“

{No we weren’t.}  
[We were totally waiting for him to get home.]

“Liar,” Peter said in mock anger, hitting him with a cushion. “So now you know how I am putting myself through Grad School, and what more than just my chin looks like under the spandex… I guess you can call me Peter too.”

Wade almost had an aneurism as his mind and boxes alike raced to come up with as many Peter-centric nicknames as possible. Petey-pie was the clear winner. Clearing his throat and sitting up a little straighter, Wade reciprocated; “Uh, Wade Wilson at your service, Petey-pie!”

“Well, _Wade_ -“

[How the fuck does he make our name sound _waaay_ sexier than it is?]  
{I call illegal game tactics!}

“-I guess you are to thank for the rather _enormous_ tip tonight?” Peter detangled himself from his cross-legged position, with the grace only Spiderman could possess, hooking a leg either side of Wade’s thighs, noting the slight tremble beneath the fabric of Wade’s suit. Peter reached towards the seam of the Deadpool mask. Wade’s fists clenched slightly, fighting the urge to bat Peter’s overly curious hands away. Old habits die hard.

Lacking any direct rebuff, Peter removed Wade’s mask. He had spent so long trying to extrapolate the scars that marked the Merc’s chin and hands, and what he saw earlier was nothing he hadn’t expected. But he was more strikingly good looking than even his wildest dreams. He stared into bewildered blue eyes, hairless brows knotted in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Peter’s brown eyes were practically black with arousal. Wade swallowed audibly as Peter reached down to remove Wade’s gloves and place his hands on Peter’s body. 

“I guess we can continue from where we left things,” Peter said, breath hitching as Wade’s hands slipped under the hem of Peter’s shirt. “However we can get away with _a lot_ more here.”  
“Only if you are sure, Baby Boy,” Wade said, disbelief still rife in his mind. Not only was Peter a.k.a Spiderman a.k.a the man of his nightly wet dreams a fully-fledged knockout, but he was into _him_ , butter face and all.

Peter all but glared down at him. “If I wasn’t sure, would I do this?” Peter ground his tented crotch along the leather holding Wade’s own cock at bay, his lips mashing into the chapped but supple set belonging to Wade, his fingers raking across the mottled texture of Wade’s bald head.

Wade groaned loudly as Peter’s hot tongue forced itself into his mouth and Wade was acutely thankful of the memory of a particularly rambunctious night of post-patrol gaming that Spiderman had mentioned Tony installing some form of noise cancelling technology into Spiderman/Peter’s apartment. 

“Wade,” Peter purred into the gnarled shell of Wade’s ear, ”I want you to fuck me. Is that clear enough for you?” Peter licked along the textured flesh to highlight his point.

“Hot _damn_ Webs,” Wade panted, “if I had known you had such a _filthy_ mouth, I would have read more into what you have been saying all this time!” Wade stood, scooping Peter’s body as he did so, his hands supporting the firm, well defined muscles of the Wade’s own Holy Grail in the process. Wade’s fingers instinctually kneaded at Peter’s ass hoping to map every detail. Peter moaned, grinding his cock against the hard abs underlying spandex, Peter’s nimble fingers working at the zipper running along Wade’s spine. 

Wade made an educated guess as to which door lead to Peter’s bedroom- 

{It’s a one bed NYC apartment…}  
[Literally one door to choose from other than the bathroom, which we have used multiple times before…]

-thanking his lucky stars the door was still open as he carried Peter to his bed, pinning the slim frame beneath his thicker thighs as he ditched his suit shirt, letting it crumple on the floor. He bent down to kiss at the three small marks that had essentially unmasked Peter, licking along his jaw and sucking at the flesh under the other side of his jaw, leaving a mark that may just last until morning.

Wade made short work of extricating Peter from the useless fabric he called a shirt, paying his respects to the fine musculature of his chest. Peter arched beneath him touch, wanting more.

“Pete you are so _goddamn fucking gorgeous_ ,” Wade moaned into Peter’s hip, his fingers moving to the waistband of the flimsy shorts. He teased them down his legs, inch by inch, the sight that awaited him was better than anything he had imagined. The sparse snail trail lead to Peter’s sizeable cock with just a dusting of soft brown curls. Wade licked at the soft skin at the join of Peter’s inner thigh and groin, taking in the sweet, hot smell of him.

Peter cried out profanities when Wade moved from his groin, to his balls, to finally take his cock in his hot, wet mouth. His lack of gag reflex was not lost on Peter as Wade slowly engulfed his entire length, letting him slide out just as slowly, his tongue dancing at Peter’s slit just enough to make his eyes roll back in his head before repeating the move again.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” Peter panted between pauses in Wade’s oral onslaught, “that I haven’t yet seen the whole of you.” Wade let Peter go with a wet pop, standing with his belt.

“Well Baby Boy, I guess you deserve the prize for taking all this without running for the hills,” Wade said with a mischievous grin on his face. He stepped out his pants, unveiling his frankly impressive sized appendage. Peter looked on with awe. “And this is all me, may I add. The scars just make it thicker.” Wade winked at Peter as he knelt on the bed before him.

“Oh wow,” Peter cupped Wade’s heavy length in both hands. His slender fingers making him look even larger than usual. “You are definitely the largest I have had.” He licked his lips, staring into Wade’s lust blown eyes, before taking him to the hilt in one swift movement.

“Oh fuck!” Wade’s knees almost buckled, but he grabbed a handful of the soft brown locks to steady himself. Peter hummed against the sting of his hair being pulled, sending shockwaves through Wade’s body. “No fair, sweetums. Let me at least get inside you before you undo me completely.”

It was Peter’s turn to wear a mischievous grin, which only widened as Wade crouched over him once more, one large hand knocking him onto his back again. Peter allowed himself to be held in place as Wade once again licked his way down to suck on Peter’s balls. Peter clearly hadn’t been paying close enough attention as he was caught completely by surprise as Wade slipped a well lubed finger between Peter’s taught cheeks, balls still being sucked on. Peter tried his hardest not to buck himself away from Wade’s mouth as said exploratory finger worked its way to Peter’s ring of muscle, tenderly asking for entry. Peter relaxed enough for Wade to gain access, and soon another found its way inside of Peter. 

Wade licked at Peter’s dripping head as he sat up, resting Peter’s ass on his folded legs. He slipped a third finger into his playmate, watching as his fingers caught the bulge that sent what was once Peter melting into a puddle of pleasure.

“Do you like that, Baby Boy,” Wade asked huskily, stating the obvious.

“Y-yes, Wade, I-I,” Peter could barely form words as Wade used one hand to press into his prostate, the other the stroke up his length, his rough thumb swiping at the glistening bead of precum leaking from his slit.

“I think you are just about ready for me, whattya think sweetness?” Wade groaned as he lubed himself up, his aching cock more than ready to be part of this party again. Peter’s lidded eyes widened as Wade positioned himself at Peter’s entrance. Wade paused, wanting to burn this image into his mind for eternity, before bluntly thrusting into a well worked Peter. Despite his preparations Peter was still taken aback, his body stilled until Wade pulled back to just his head inside him. That was all the pause needed for Peter to collect himself and push back to meet Wade’s thrusts.

Peter pulled Wade’s face to his, his mouth hungrily searching every corner of Wade’s as the pace fastened. Peter wrapped his legs around Wade’s waist, pulling every last fraction of his cock inside him, Peter’s own thrusts willing him faster, faster. Peter came with a symphony of expletives and Wade’s name. Wade followed suit, filling Peter with white hot adoration. Once again, Wade was extremely thankful for Stark Engineering as that was not at all quiet.

Wade fell on his back, his stripper spider curling his body around him. They fell asleep, their pleasure spent bodies intermingled.

Wade work with a start just as dawn crept above the city sky line. He looked at the tousled brown hair and creamy skin dusted with freckles. A momentary panic had him anxious to leave before Peter could wake with disgust. He attempted to wiggle free of the spider’s grip, but the stirring had already alerted him to his plans.

“Where are you going? Please don’t leave, Wade.” Peter said sleepily, nuzzling in closer, his morning wood rubbing against Wade’s thigh. Wade’s heart just about exploded with joy.

“You’re gonna regret saying that,” Wade said hotly, flipping his spider onto his back and diving to take care of business, once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed that. Feel free to leave comments/kudos as you see fit.


End file.
